Friday, October 2, 1987

I had a class called "Humanities" in my senior year of high school; it
was basically field trips for credit, both big group field trips and
little individual field trips (there were many and you picked a set
of them). One of the individual field trips was to Bay Tree Park in
San Mateo, where there was (naturally enough) a large bay tree, older
than the development around it. One of the assignments (we were to
pick one of five) to complete after
visiting it was to write a story. It was later published in the high
school literary journal, One Hand Clapping.

I imagine it being rendered into a teleplay. "POV shot: Tree."

Isadore and Its Man

The man sat at the base of the tree, explaining.

"They want to cut you down, Isadore. They want your wood. They
don't understand about you. But I'll talk to them. I'll make them
understand!"

The tree with the name Isadore simply stood. It closed up its
stamens, for night was falling. It went to what we must call
sleep -- for no human can understand the nature of trees --
until the next day. The man put out his fire and did the same.

When the sun reached the topmost needles the man was gone.
The tree with the name Isadore didn't know that. It only knew
that the warmness against its body was gone, but the sun's
energy was back and it could produce again. Water and food
circulated in its bark. It grew slightly larger -- the tiniest
portion of a small ring. The tree grew and circulated and
photosynthesized all that day, and the next.

On the third day the man was back. The tree did not know that
the man was back. The man said, "Isadore, they're going to make
me move. They're going to take me away from you. But I won't let
them! I need you, Isadore! I can take care of you!" The tree
with the name Isadore felt its leaves shake as wind from below
brushed them.

The next day the man was there again. The tree began to
understand -- although trees cannot understand in a manner that
is sensical to humans -- that another being was in its area. A
being who made the wind move, a being who was warm and sometimes
created hotness. The tree with the name Isadore could not hear
the man or see the man but he felt the closeness of the man when
the man was there. It began to recognize the presence of the
man.

For many weeks -- the tree did not know or care how many, and
indeed it could have been three days or ten years -- the man
stayed. He fed the tree with nutritious chemicals and the tree
protected him from sun and rain. The man spoke to the tree, and
the tree spoke to the man. Neither comprehended, but both knew
"friend".

Then weeks later -- or it could have been years, or days --
another man came. The tree did not understand. How could there
be two of Man? There was only one tree, one Isadore (although
the tree did not know that the man called it Isadore). The
second man spoke to the first man, but it was not the same way
that the man spoke to the tree. The second man was unpleasant.
The tree wished that the second man would leave. The man felt so
too, although how the tree knew this it had no idea.

The second man spoke to the first man for a little while
longer and then left. The tree was happy -- although trees
cannot be happy in any way understandable to humans. The first
man went and spoke to the tree, leaning against it, as he had
done so many times.

"They're going to call the Forest Service on us, Isadore.
They're going to cut you down. The companies want your body."
The tree felt dew along its trunk. For some reason it was not
happy any more. It felt very sad, or something as close to it as
a tree can be.

The next day many men came. Some of the men were taking the
first man away. The tree wondered -- as much as a tree can
wonder -- why he was leaving. The tree wondered if he would come
back.

The other men were doing things the tree didn't understand.
Some of them felt around the tree with a tape. Others stuck
sticks in the ground and made marks on a flat thing with a
small stick. But the sun was falling so they left.

They returned the next day. They got a large metal flat thing
-- totally foreign to the tree. The men got next to the tree
with the large metal flat thing. They started to cut.